Moonspear long in tooth and soul

babysitter, punching bag, chew toy -- it was all the same to arcturus, who endured such sufferings with good humor. truth be told, he liked teaching the kids -- and they were a good lot, all in.

his gaze followed dirge's, understanding the gesture. the wilds were vacant of larger game, though he wondered if anyone had been dumb enough yet to eat that moose that had been felled by disease. back then, it was not so tempting.. but now -- with an empty stomach and weeks of traveling lean, arcturus understood the loner's desperation.

he was quiet for a little longer than normal, as he thought of dirge's question. what had his first hunt been? he thought of the wolverine - that had been his (and revui's) first kill -- but it had not been much of a hunt.

"a wolverine." he answered. they had been atlas and osiris' age. and then he smiled widely, for dirge would understand: "but it was not my parents that put me to it. it was hydra."

He found that mirrored smile come easily—of course it would be Hydra.

"Somehow I am not surprised," he said, only to smirk. "That does seem a Hydra thing to do. Were you successful?" There was little doubt in his mind that they had been, but for all he knew it may have been precursory to all they had been taught now. That too seemed a Hydra thing, as even he had come to learn that she sprinkled in lessons in more than just words.

dirge smirked, eliciting a brief, almost roguish grin from arcturus. "of course we were successful," he said with a theatrical air of self-importance, puffing out his chest as if he were about to tell his epic on how he, the valiant hero arcturulf, had slain the grendelvine in a harrowing fight to the death.


"it was a wicked thing, and she said it could not live so close to our reach." the thing was blind, and half crazed, but it had put up significant fight. "they are bigger than i thought, you know." and he had been smaller. "revui was there." at this he suddenly turned sourly silent, gaze hardening as he reminded himself his brother had turned traitor, and was not to be remembered fondly.

Of course they were successful, but of more interest was the way he mentioned Revui being there. Given their choice of topics previously, it seemed almost bittersweet in memory—likely more bitter than sweet, really. He took it and ran.

"He fought me like a badger, once," Dirge recalled. "I knocked a tooth out of his head by accident, and your father saw the whole thing." A small smile crossed his features then, though whisked away at the thought of Charon. He had been certain scathing words were to come his way then, but now instead it seemed it was the only time he could recall praise from the once speckled face soul now long departed.

Arcturus wished he had not revisited the memories of his childhood — for the ghosts that rose fervently from his oft-nailed down thoughts were relentless. he had never forgotten his father nor mother - not their faces, not their eyes, not their souls. revui was much the same way - he recalled him as infrequently as possible, to keep that sarcophagus of his emotions nailed shut.

he had glanced away while dirge spoke. his jaw was taut, eyes hardened. for a while the silence looked between them, tight and cold — yet it was not dirge’s fault. Arcturus’ sudden shift in demeanor was all his own sowing. i hope my father praised you for that.

Had it been praise? Truly?

Dirge wasn't entirely sure, at least not now. Not given the history that had unfolded.

"Something like that," he answered, eyes ever ahead on their path. The incline was shifting upward now, and his tail passively flicked at the change, and at the sifting he did through recollection. He may as well have been the prybar to any nails being laid in, nearly disregarding the tautness of his brother-in-law's tone.

"It may have been the only time I heard something akin to praise from him. Your mother was more generous in that regard. Your sisters, too," he went on in thought, "except for Alya. She seemed rather impervious to my roguish charms." Another upward pull at his lips. Antagonistic, too. These were more of the memories he held onto; the humoring ones, the ones that seemed pivotal in whatever slice of life he had observed or cascaded through.

A sigh left him; "I imagine she'll eventually come around. You did, at least by my estimation. Unless you're a much better actor than I thought," and his gaze rounded on Arcturus then, lighthearted and tinged with humor... and a little bit of curiosity. A farce covering his attempt to pull the plug on any of the darkness that swept in.

dirge's answer may have been vague, but arcturus found himself imagining the scene -- and imagining, that somehow, charon had at least been amused.

he hid the smile with a cant of his head, glancing up the pass they climbed. scree and snow claimed most of the uplands, and their little jaunt was not without some navigational difficulties.

his sisters -- arcturus thought of each of their strengths, and their virtues. of his sisters, he was most close with hydra. yama came second, being of his litter. lyra arcturus knew well: she had accompanied him on several expeditions now, and had been most present in his life besides hydra. yet alya, arcturus knew not at all. he supposed if she was anything like his (hers) sisters, he could imagine the things she might have said to dirge in times past.

as for him... arcturus was no actor. he wore his emotions plainly -- and while he tried, in many ways, to be diplomatic -- there was still that undercurrent of genuine feeling that often overtook him. "a good actor would never tell you." he joked, but followed with a toothy grin. "i remember once, thinking maybe father's end would come by you. expecting that maybe one day i would come across the two of you ripping each other to pieces. i never thought things would turn out the way they had." arcturus fell silent quickly thereafter, realizing he had spoken perhaps too much, about too sore a subject, too soon.

How true that a good actor would never tell—another humored note escaped him only to be carried away as Arcturus turned to a slightly darker theme. Fitting, giving the ever shifting nature of their conversation... and insightful to some degree. Perhaps it was no wonder that Charon brushed him off, thinking he could tarnish whatever ambitions Dirge harbored, especially if his own children saw the potential. Or perhaps it were simpler than that, and Arcturus only served to stroke his ego, to curry favor much in the same way that Dirge had with them all.

And then he realized he had fallen silent too, and cleared his throat.

"Perhaps I would have to have your sister," he murmured darkly. There were a lot of things he supposed he would have done, all the options that he could exhaust until his venture turned fruitless. But things had not gone that way and in spite of the tragedies behind them, he had come out for the better.

"You know, we worried for a time that he would not relent. Not just your sister and I, but your mother too. She gave Hydra her blessing... and we thought that perhaps if push came to shove that we would simply go than cause a rift." Or something along those lines; he embellished where he thought it necessary, but it was nonetheless true in his eyes.

"Of course, if I had it my way... I think I would have stolen your sister away far sooner than that. She's had my eye for a long time." Cue the knavish smile, a lighter heart to a conversation that was better for them both.

a silence beat over them, one arcturus did not disturb. it seemed they would stay in that quiet rift forever, but then dirge spoke -- his tone dark indeed.

arcturus had his own opinions (as young wolves were wont to do) of how things could have been handled, how things should have been handled, and how they had actually played out. wonder of it all, was that of course, the way it had truly happened was not the way he preferred - for what son wished the demise of his parents?

a rueful smile spread across his muzzle. fate, he had decided long ago, could suck a fat one.

he was glad that dirge had not whisked hydra away; moonspear would not be what it was, without the two of them. while he was not sure he would have traded his parents' lives freely for that luxury, now that it existed, he was not sure things could go back either. "he would have liked you, in time." arcturus murmured, thinking that maybe, charon would have seen that dirge was good for hydra -- and that, as they say, 'it could be much worse'.

"now you are king of the 'spear, instead of king of none and rogue of the roads. no going back to that lifestyle." his tone was lighter than before, and a simple, easy expression had replaced the tight lines across arcturus' face.

Somehow he kept the scoff he so very much wanted to bring out. It lodged itself in his throat like a bad piece of bone too stubborn to turn just right, and had he been of a lesser will he would have choked on the idea. Would have liked you in time, oh, he had heard that before. It once would have made his blood boil, but now...

Dirge had no word for it. Quiet indignation, perhaps.

He focused instead on the lighter offering behind that and forged a smile out of that indignation. A king he may have been, but he did not quite see himself that way. Better he a rat wearing a crooked diadem—Dirge had not taken much in the way of issue with letting Hydra be the one to run the show. Except where he felt he needed to put his input in firmly, whether she asked him for it or not.

"I do miss it, that lifestyle," he found himself admitting. "At least your sister affords me the opportunity to still do some ranging... not that I would leave her alone with the quartet of holy terror for long. Too long and I'd be more apt to come home to a crumbled pile of rocks that once resembled a mountain and a few faces of teeth in want of their pound of flesh." An amused note left him, distracted. "But out there, you are your own king if you so desire it. Master of your own destiny, if you will."

aw dirgle U ARE A KING NOT A RAT.. but if u were you'd be this cutie

arcturus sensed the words he had used to be reassuring were anything but. he let the silence that came between them go; he knew dirge's relationship with charon had been rocky -- and nothing would change the past.

and now, there would never be a future for either of them, for charon was long in the ground and would never rise again.

the conversation of charon and what would have been took a turn, and arcturus did not mourn the quiet that had been chased away by dirge's words. he could see and understand dirge's vantage -- and took pleasure in going into the wilderness himself.

that part of him could never be erased or hidden: arcturus supposed he would make a poor dirge for his hydra someday, if it ever came to that. dirge's words inspired him - they had a melancholy poetry to them -- and he took them to heart with a sigh leveled into the air. "you are." he agreed, though his voice was quiet. "but your kingdom is very small. there are tradeoffs for everything, i suppose."

And there were many tradeoffs to be had, so many that Dirge dared not to level them against what he had currently amassed for fear that it would pain him rather than tempt him. It was an inevitable event, however, and he could not help but entertain the thoughts that arose in the wake of the observations made by Arcturus.

"Both invite their troubles too," he rejoined softly—how well reacquainted they would be with many in weeks to come. "But I find it is a matter of where your priorities lie whether they are troublesome or not. Children alter such as well." Somewhere, his priorities had shifted and the realization of just what sort of father he would be had grabbed hold; decidedly, not like his own. He would not abandon them even if he abandoned all else lest the very life in him was torn and spilled against stone.

And yet... that call to the wilderness was a very real thing.

He heard it, even now. A fiendish low moan of a whisper beneath layers of veiling ambient din—he thought perhaps when the children were grown, he would entertain the thought of adventure once again. Not in a permanent sense—ambition had a hand on the proverbial wheel that steered him as much as any other—but just enough to soothed errant desire of a different sort.

arcturus did not yet hear the call of the wild -- that siren song would not come for several months yet -- but as dirge spoke, the astute boy fancied he saw something akin to a longing in the older male's gaze.

dirge had traded his life in the wilds -- but it had not come at such terrible costs. with his domestication on the spear, he was granted stability. a mate. children. these, in arcturus' eyes, were very desirable things (oh, how much he had to learn about family, and the chains that came with it!).

his priorities aligned with dirge's -- in some way. yet maybe, when he was old, he might look back on the indomitable frontier, and long for the feel of fresh snow under his tired paws, of exotic winds rifling his fur...

yet for now, he remained rooted in the comfortable. "children change things, that they do. have you thought of more in the coming season?" for arcturus, the season seemed impossibly far away. little did he know how much things changed.

When it came to the talk of more children, he pondered. While he had never put much thought in becoming a father, there were parts of such he found rewarding. There were core principles that he could not go back on, and it had shaped his world more than he had anticipated. But would there be more? He couldn't say, and found that his own opinions towards the notion were dry and lacking; there was too much that would fill the gaps between, and more work to be done to align Hydra's visions with reality.

"We haven't discussed it yet," he said in way of deflecting. "The choice isn't mine any more than it is your sister's, and our children are still young as it is." He paced it thoughtfully, finding the even ground to be most considerate in lieu of others. Whether they did or did not—either seemed quite fine by him. He had not faltered in rising to the occasion, amd she had not failed in rearing them.

"Time will tell, and if she seeks to have me then we shall see," he went on passively. "Though I am curious if Alya will settle in the coming year. She's rather taken with tbat fellow of hers, isn't she?" He smiled thinly. "She seemed to enjoy our quartet quite a bit."

arcturus listened with a canted ear, observing dirge's words -- which, to the young but not entirely oblivious ostrega, seemed pieced together rather carefully. while the answer was indirect, it was a response arcturus could live with. perhaps their hands were full with their current band of puppies -- or perhaps they were worried about the winter ahead. perhaps, it was simply too early to tell.

he nodded, glancing upon the ground with a quiet look. the topic shifted to nikai and arcturus spared a warm smile. "yes, nikai." he answered with a sway of his tail -- one could read easily from arcturus' shift in body language that he thought well of the wolf. "we've trained together in the past. unfortunate about his leg.. but he is no slouch. when i first met him, he wished to physically train on terrain so that when he came here, he would not be so indisposed."

An agreeable note escaped him—"That's wise of him."

Foresight was certainly never a bad thing, at least with the likes that filled the ranks of Moonspear. Nikai was perhaps the only one who had a disadvantage, but he didn't seem too bothered by it, and Dirge came to the conclusion that his injury must have been an old one.

"He certainly isn't slowed down any, at least in my estimation. Fancies himself a storyteller, too," he went on, adding, "not quite the sort I would have imagined that sharptoothed sister of yours settling with." No, he imagined Alya with someone just as sharp as herself. Nikai was softer; a kind soul in a sea of very vicious ones.

the mountaineer had believed it wise as well. if anything, he had been struck by nikai's resolve -- his triumph in the face of dissolution.

surely, if arcturus had lost a leg, all would be lost.

he flicked an ear in interest to hear nikai was a story-weaver -- like wraen. "has he told you stories?" the beta queried, resolving to seek out nikai some time in the next week so he might test the storyteller's mettle. there was little out there that captured arcturus' fancy -- and his deeply buried longing for something greater -- that listening to stories.

"One of Easthollow, of the stone circle there," he answered, briefly recalling the tale. "Said each stone represents a different tenet of sorts, you could say. One for warriors, another for a mother's love, and the like." It had been an interesting concept to say the least, and one that he hadn't thought of for a bit. Perhaps he really would go to see such a place one day.

A chuckle left him as he amended another detail.

"He also tried to tease a story out of me, but I don't fancy myself a storyteller." What was it he had said? He didn't have the sort of stories for children and truly had been thankful that his own had not tried to pry any out of him. That had been more the ballpark of Hydra and her sisters, who had vastly more knowledge of the otherworldly, of the astrological tales woven in their night skies. But he had listened to such tales all the same.

arcturus knew little of easthollow, though he had known nikai came from there when they had first met. to him, easthollow may have well existed in another world -- it was outside his realm, and therefore, not central to his focus.

he tried to envision this spire of stones, and how each one might represent something different. he wondered if there was anything like that here, in moonspear. no, they were a practical people, and the mountain made nonsense of fools. "do they... worship them?" he tried to keep the judgment out of his voice, but as a wolf very firmly entrenched in wolven-atheism, he found the idea of bending before stones preposterous.

A thoughtful note left him.

"I wouldn't call it worship, no. But they have a respect for them like we do our mountain in a way, if I had to guess. They bury their dead there. It's more of a mourning ground I suppose." He couldn't really say much more on it; he had never seen them to draw any sort of precise knowledge about them.

"Might be a good question to ask Nikai, actually," he added on.

work is ruining me sorry

arcturus resolved then to ask nikai the next time he saw him; what was the nature of easthollow's relationship with the stones? arcturus found the idea rather morbid, but perhaps he should reserve judgment for when he had all the facts laid out in a straight line besides him.

and so he fell to contemplative silence, considering what nature these stones might serve -- and why moonspear was so different. it was a companionable quiet, one that did not need words to carry on the quiet conversation -- for dirge had given arcturus much to mull over.